“They are afraid of me because I am ugly,” he said. So he closed his eyes, and flew still farther, until he came out on

a large moor, inhabited by wild ducks. Here he remained the whole night, feeling very tired and sorrowful.
　　In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared at their new comrade. “What sort of a duck are you?”

they all said, coming round him.
　　He bowed to them, and was as polite as he could be, but he did not reply to their question. “You are exceedingly ugly,”

said the wild ducks, “but that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family.”
　　Poor thing! he had no thoughts of marriage; all he wanted was permission to lie among the rushes, and drink some of the

water on the moor. After he had been on the moor two days, there came two wild geese, or rather goslings, for they had not

been out of the egg long, and were very saucy. “Listen, friend,” said one of them to the duckling, “you are so ugly, that

we like you very well. Will you go with us, and become a bird of passage? Not far from here is another moor, in which there

are some pretty wild geese, all unmarried. It is a chance for you to get a wife; you may be lucky, ugly as you are.”
　　“Pop, pop,” sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead among the rushes, and the water was tinged with blood.

“Pop, pop,” echoed far and wide in the distance, and whole flocks of wild geese rose up from the rushes. The sound

continued from every direction, for the sportsmen surrounded the moor, and some were even seated on branches of trees,

overlooking the rushes. The blue smoke from the guns rose like clouds over the dark trees, and as it floated away across the

water, a number of sporting dogs bounded in among the rushes, which bent beneath them wherever they went. How they terrified

the poor duckling! He turned away his head to hide it under his wing, and at the same moment a large terrible dog passed

quite near him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth, and his eyes glared fearfully. He thrust his nose close

to the duckling, showing his sharp teeth, and then, “splash, splash,” he went into the water without touching him, “Oh,”

sighed the duckling, “how thankful I am for being so ugly; even a dog will not bite me.” And so he lay quite still, while

the shot rattled through the rushes, and gun after gun was fired over him. It was late in the day before all became quiet,

but even then the poor young thing did not dare to move. He waited quietly for several hours, and then, after looking

carefully around him, hastened away from the moor as fast as he could. He ran over field and meadow till a storm arose, and

he could hardly struggle against it. Towards evening, he reached a poor little cottage that seemed ready to fall, and only

remained standing because it could not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so violent, that the duckling

could go no farther; he sat down by the cottage, and then he noticed that the door was not quite closed in consequence of one

of the hinges having given way. There was therefore a narrow opening near the bottom large enough for him to slip through,

which he did very quietly, and got a shelter for the night. A woman, a tom cat, and a hen lived in this cottage. The tom cat,

whom the mistress called, “My little son,” was a great favorite; he could raise his back, and purr, and could even throw

out sparks from his fur if it were stroked the wrong way. The hen had very short legs, so she was called “Chickie short

legs.” She laid good eggs, and her mistress loved her as if she had been her own child. In the morning, the strange visitor

was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the hen to cluck. 
　　“What is that noise about?” said the old woman, looking round the room, but her sight was not very good; therefore,

when she saw the duckling she thought it must be a fat duck, that had strayed from home. “Oh what a prize!” she exclaimed,

“I hope it is not a drake, for then I shall have some duck’s eggs. I must wait and see.” So the duckling was allowed to

remain on trial for three weeks, but there were no eggs. Now the tom cat was the master of the house, and the hen was

mistress, and they always said, “We and the world,” for they believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half

too. The duckling thought that others might hold a different opinion on the subject, but the hen would not listen to such

doubts. “Can you lay eggs?” she asked. “No.” “Then have the goodness to hold your tongue.” “Can you raise your back,

or purr, or throw out sparks?” said the tom cat. “No.” “Then you have no right to express an opinion when sensible people

are speaking.” So the duckling sat in a corner, feeling very low spirited, till the sunshine and the fresh air came into the

room through the open door, and then he began to feel such a great longing for a swim on the water, that he could not help

telling the hen.
　　“What an absurd idea,” said the hen. “You have nothing else to do, therefore you have foolish fancies. If you could

purr or lay eggs, they would pass away.”
　　“But it is so delightful to swim about on the water,” said the duckling, “and so refreshing to feel it close over your

head, while you dive down to the bottom.”
　　“Delightful, indeed!” said the hen, “why you must be crazy! Ask the cat, he is the cleverest animal I know, ask him

how he would like to swim about on the water, or to dive under it, for I will not speak of my own opinion; ask our mistress,

the old woman—there is no one in the world more clever than she is. Do you think she would like to swim, or to let the water

close over her head?”
　　“You don’t understand me,” said the duckling.
　　“We don’t understand you? Who can understand you, I wonder? Do you consider yourself more clever than the cat, or the

old woman? I will say nothing of myself. Don’t imagine such nonsense, child, and thank your good fortune that you have been

received here. Are you not in a warm room, and in society from which you may learn something. But you are a chatterer, and

your company is not very agreeable. Believe me, I speak only for your own good. I may tell you unpleasant truths, but that is

a proof of my friendship. I advise you, therefore, to lay eggs, and learn to purr as quickly as possible.”
　　“I believe I must go out into the world again,” said the duckling.
“Yes, do,” said the hen. So the duckling left the cottage, and soon found water on which it could swim and dive, but was

avoided by all other animals, because of its ugly appearance. Autumn came, and the leaves in the forest turned to orange and

gold. then, as winter approached, the wind caught them as they fell and whirled them in the cold air. The clouds, heavy with

hail and snow-flakes, hung low in the sky, and the raven stood on the ferns crying, “Croak, croak.” It made one shiver with

cold to look at him. All this was very sad for the poor little duckling. One evening, just as the sun set amid radiant

clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the bushes. The duckling had never seen any like them before. They

were swans, and they curved their graceful necks, while their soft plumage shown with dazzling whiteness. They uttered a

singular cry, as they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions to warmer countries across the sea.

As they mounted higher and higher in the air, the ugly little duckling felt quite a strange sensation as he watched them. He

whirled himself in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry so strange that it

frightened himself. Could he ever forget those beautiful, happy birds; and when at last they were out of his sight, he dived

under the water, and rose again almost beside himself with excitement. He knew not the names of these birds, nor where they

had flown, but he felt towards them as he had never felt for any other bird in the world. He was not envious of these

beautiful creatures, but wished to be as lovely as they. Poor ugly creature, how gladly he would have lived even with the

ducks had they only given him encouragement. The winter grew colder and colder; he was obliged to swim about on the water to

keep it from freezing, but every night the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller. At length it froze so hard that

the ice in the water crackled as he moved, and the duckling had to paddle with his legs as well as he could, to keep the

space from closing up. He became exhausted at last, and lay still and helpless, frozen fast in the ice.
　　Early in the morning, a peasant, who was passing by, saw what had happened. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden

shoe, and carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor little creature; but when the children wanted to

play with him, the duckling thought they would do him some harm; so he started up in terror, fluttered into the milk-pan, and

splashed the milk about the room. Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still more. He flew first into the

butter-cask, then into the meal-tub, and out again. What a condition he was in! The woman screamed, and struck at him with

the tongs; the children laughed and screamed, and tumbled over each other, in their efforts to catch him; but luckily he

escaped. The door stood open; the poor creature could just manage to slip out among the bushes, and lie down quite exhausted

in the newly fallen snow.
共4页: 上一页 [1] 2 [3] [4] 下一页